


Weird

by ryuutora



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Friends With Benefits, Galra Keith (Voltron), He just wants to fuck someone, Help, I can't believe I did this, Keith has zero clue as to what the fuck is happening, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Keith, Pretty much all the other characters are minor appearances, does this make me a furry, idk what else to tag this as???, this is just straight up sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 16:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7648843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuutora/pseuds/ryuutora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not Space Flu, Keith.</p><p>(Human anatomy and Galra anatomy aren't necessarily the same; God knows what Keith's will be like.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weird

**Author's Note:**

> well im a fucking sinner im going to hell for sure bye see you there you beautiful kinky fuckers
> 
> tbh it isnt actually that kinky keith is just super horny and lance comes inside him also mentions of mpreg which i wasnt really comfortable with but fuck it whatever right???  
> who cares more people will probably read it that way i think  
> also theyre like 19+ in this js

Keith _definitely_ has a cold. Or the flu. Maybe Lance was right and space flu is a real thing and he’s going to die. Maybe him being whatever the hell this messed up half-breed thing is called means he’s actually susceptible to weird Galran space diseases which is...a horribly unpleasant thought, from beginning to end. His stomach clenches and he whimpers and rolls over so his face hangs over the edge of the bed because if he’s going to throw up it _will not_ be all over his perfectly nice fucking pillows.  


He feels like he’s being roasted alive even though all his blankets have been kicked to the foot of his bed and the temperature in the castle is perfectly cold and pleasant. The fur is not fucking helping.  


Yeah, he’s definitely going to die from weird-ass Galran space flu. Lance will probably laugh himself to tears hearing that, the bastard.  


“Fuuuck,” he groans, trying and failing for about the hundredth time since he woke up to crawl out of bed. Can’t someone just come along and put him out of his misery?  


At least another hour passes, and he curses his reclusive behaviour for making it entirely unsuspicious to his fellow paladins that he is nowhere to be found on the ship. Then again, this is excruciatingly embarrassing; Keith does not present any form of weakness to the world, outside of being occasionally hot-headed.  


Fever is not the kind of hot-headed he wants people to see.  


The godawful stomach cramps have faded, but the boiling heat under his skin is as bad as ever, and his head feels fuzzy, and he just really wishes he could go back to sleep right now but he’s so restless, aching, and twitchy that it’s completely out of the question.  


He sighs frustratedly and rolls over, trying to stretch the ache out of his poor body. Several joints pop but it brings him no relief.  


Fuck, he is _so hungry_ , too.  


“Please just kill me,” he mutters into his pillow.  


Someone knocks on his door and he tenses so fast his spine hurts, eyes shooting to the locked door.  


“Keith? You in there?” Lance calls, and Keith squeezes his jaw shut hard enough to crack teeth. Like fuck he’s gonna let Lance see him like this.  


After a couple minutes and several more knocks, Lance sighs and Keith can hear Pidge speaking as well, “Are you sure he isn’t in the hangar?”  


“I dunno,” Lance says, and two sets of footsteps retreat down the hall. “I’m really worried.”  


“Aww, it’ll be okay,” Pidge’s fading voice says teasingly, and Keith relaxes instantly when he can no longer hear them.  


He needs a damn aspirin or a damn nap. Both, preferably.  


Maybe, if he can get himself up and to a healing pod…  


Not happening. An unbelievable dizziness washes over him the moment he tries to sit up, and when he falls back on the bed he realizes he’s panting, not just from the discomfort. His whole body feels like it’s going into overdrive, all his senses suddenly heightened, the unbearable heat becoming somehow worse, and he curls into himself and whimpers again, partly because this is fucking awful and partly because he is suddenly very, very horny.  


“What the _fuck_?” he growls, ears flattening against his head. Desperately, he starts squirming out of his clothes, trying to alleviate some of the pain and dispel some heat. _Not_ because he is seriously considering masturbating because of this ridiculous onslaught of hormones.  


Thirty seconds later he is scrambling upright despite another wave of dizziness that screams through his head at the motion.  


There are certain places in his body that are _not_ supposed to be wet and that is _definitely_ one of them. This whole Galra thing is fucking _bullshit_ and he needs answers to some really embarrassing questions _immediately_. No wonder these alien assholes are so bitchy all the time, if this is something they have to deal with.  


Or maybe...he’s just exceptionally strange, being, y’know, a half-breed and all. He growls again, louder this time, and slumps backwards. He can’t do this anymore. The whole changing into a cat-alien-monster had been hard enough, but if this is also something to do with his Galra genes he’s just going to throw himself out the airlock and be done with it because this is so stupid.  


He needs to talk to Coran about why he’s suddenly horny, nauseated, overly hot, and why his body is doing… _that_. Or Allura. Whichever one of them is closer.  


He tugs his pants back on, braces a hand on the wall by his bed and slowly, slowly, stands, cradling his head in his free hand and making an agonized noise the whole way up. Once he’s re-oriented himself and the throbbing has gone away, he makes his laborious progress across the room and slams his hand on the control panel beside the door, stumbling outside and leaning against the wall opposite for several minutes, wheezing. This is going to be tedious as fuck.  


He can still _smell_ that Lance and Pidge have been by recently, and that Shiro passed by his room shortly beforehand, but didn’t linger. Something about the amalgam of scents makes his brain go nuts, and suddenly the heat is more intense, creeping down his spine and burning his stomach.  


“Would be nice to know some of this shit before it happens,” he says to the empty hallway, and tries with all the tenacity in his being not to think about how much he wants to get laid right now or why or what having a _wet ass_ and wanting to get fucked means because like he said, this alien stuff is bullshit. He doesn’t want to deal with it.  


His journey down the hallway (which sucks and is super uncomfortable but that just seems like a constant state of being for him at this point) is smooth going until he turns a corner and runs into Lance, who smells -- well, like exactly the kind of lay he’s looking for.  


They’ve done stuff together before, even after Keith’s little mishap (read: discovery of his alien ancestry). Especially after his body decided to “go Galra”, as Lance put it, he pursued the idea of sex with Lance at every turn. His heightened senses made Lance smell fucking fantastic, to put it lightly. Now, this -- whatever it is -- makes it a million times more attractive.  


“Fuck,” is all Keith can say before his legs give out, and he should be humiliated by the growing wet spot on his pyjama pants but all his brain can supply is how nice it would be if Lance fucked him right here and now.  


“Jesus, Keith, what the hell?” Lance cries, surging forward to catch him, and _oh god_ , electricity sparks through his skin where Lance’s hands make contact, and, that’s right, he isn’t wearing a shirt.  


He wants to ask Lance to fuck him, which wouldn’t be _too_ unusual given their record of deciding to have sex wherever they happen to be in the castle, but this _is_ an unusual situation and he doesn’t want to bother him with his freaky hormone and anatomy shit. Or be laughed at for his freaky hormone and anatomy shit. Or risk Lance telling everyone else.  


“Need to...talk to Allura,” he grits out, claws digging into Lance’s biceps and face pressed into his shoulder and _fuuuck_ , he smells like heaven. He should definitely just ask for sex and get it over with.  


Lance moves to wrap his arms around him and a purr erupts from his throat. “Um!” Lance squeaks, jerking his head back to look down at Keith as well as he can, but Keith is shuffling forward, pressing closer to him and purring louder.  


“You smell… _fucking great_.”  


“Yup, okay, we gotta go see Allura!” Lance says, still squeaky, and starts half-carrying him down the hall. Confused, Keith forces his purring to subside slightly, craning his neck to stare at Lance. It’s not like he hasn’t told Lance he smells good before...or _has_ he? He thinks it a _lot_.  


“You _do_ ,” he mumbles, trying to move his feet to keep up, but with his proximity to Lance all his limbs feel like jelly and just slumps against him and _whines_ as the desire to get laid grows ever stronger. This has got to be some freakish alien shit happening to his body, the logical part of his brain reasons, but the entire rest of his brain is just demanding sex and he doesn’t exactly feel inclined to ignore it. “Can we fuck?”  


Lance, caught off guard by Keith’s refusal to support his own weight _and_ by his question, nearly drops him, but remembers himself at the last second and wraps his arm securely around his waist again. “No. You’re burning up. That’s the fever talking.”  


“Nooo,” he says, a little delirious from, well, _being horny as hell_ , “it’s not...it’s...the fever is _from_ wanting to have sex.” He digs his heels into the floor but that doesn’t stop Lance from tugging him forward a couple more metres.  


“Keith, I would love to have sex with you, but you’re fucking crazy if you think you can get a fever like this from being horny.”  


“I’m fucking serious,” Keith snaps, and -- _ugh_ , he’s panting again -- yanks himself out of Lance’s arms. Which ultimately results in him landing on his ass and his body violently protesting the loss of contact. He curls into himself and whimpers again. “Just, hahh, just, _please_ , I don’t know what’s wrong but all I can tell is I _need_ to…” he trails off as more warmth floods through his veins, arousal burning in his gut. “ _Please._ ” He isn’t sure if he’s talking to Lance or begging his body to just _stop being like this_ at this point, but his voice has risen several pitches and he sounds borderline hysterical. He thinks he may start crying if Lance doesn’t just _help out a little, for fuck’s sake_.  


“Woah, okay, _woah_.” Lance’s hands are on him again and he really _can’t help it_ when he starts purring again, because it feels like he’s on fire and even though his touch isn’t necessarily _cold_ , it brings him some kind of relief and that’s enough right now to make him react like he’s the most contented half-breed freak in the universe. “I got you. I’ll help,” Lance tells him softly as he pulls him to his feet again. Keith leans heavily on him, trying to envelop himself in his scent and touch. He’ll _die_ if Lance stops touching him.  


He doesn’t really process much after that until he’s hit with a wall of Lance’s scent and the intensity of the rumbling in his chest increases tenfold. Lance helps him onto the bed, and Keith immediately latches onto a pillow and inhales deeply, a good enough substitute for the real thing for a moment. While Lance strips, he spends a couple minutes rearranging his bed, amassing his blankets and pillows around the edges until he has a low wall of fabric surrounding him on all sides, all reeking of Lance in the best way. Content with this new setup, he wiggles out of his pants and finally, mercifully frees his dick. He’s been hard since before he left his room.  


Lance maneuvers himself onto the bed beside him, careful not to dislodge the weird-ass nest thing Keith constructed, and stares down at him. He’s bright red (well, purplish-red), his ears pressed flat to his head, and he’s trying to purr despite the fact that he’s panting heavily, making the sound jarred and choppy.  


“Um,” Keith says suddenly, just as Lance is leaning down to kiss him. “Before you...ahh.” He squirms a bit, shifting his legs around to relieve some of the pressure in his groin. “There’s something really...really weird going on, uh.” His ears go even flatter against his head, humiliation washing over him, but this minor issue is superseded by how urgently he needs to have someone’s dick in him. “It’s wet,” is what he says in the end, not entirely sure how articulate this problem.  


“What’s…?” Lance starts, scanning Keith and his surroundings, but the darkening blush on Keith’s face tells him plenty. “What, like, your…?  


Keith nods and covers his face with his hands, ears twitching ashamedly.  


“Dude.” Lance is laughing now, and he _knew_ this was a terrible fucking idea; he should’ve just fingered himself, or demanded Lance take him to see Allura so she could fix it. He digs his hands into his eyes until tiny bursts of light explode behind his eyelids. “You know it was like that the last couple times we fucked, right? I figured it’s just a normal Galra thing. I barely had to use any lube. How did you not notice?”  


Maybe because he’d been so focused on how stupidly goddamn attractive Lance was and how stupidly nice he always smelt now to notice something like _that_ , which, for the record, was literally appalling and needed to be dealt with as soon as he was coherent enough to fix it. “That’s so gross,” he says into his hands. It would be nice if a black hole opened up right now and crushed him into singularity.  


“I dunno, I think it’s kinda...sexy. Is that. Weird?”  


“That’s pretty fucking weird.”  


“Oh, says the half-alien purple dude acting like a dog in heat.”  


“Fuck you.”  


“I’m _trying_. At your insistence, I might add.”  


Keith drags his fingers down his face and glares at Lance. It’s half-assed because he’s so turned on right now that it’s affecting his vision, but Lance still shudders and relents.  


Overall grossness of his body’s new functions aside, he’d really appreciate _something_ in his ass right now, and he explains this to Lance simply by grabbing his wrist and dragging his hand down to his crotch, whining aggravatedly. Lance gets the point, and makes quick work of slipping a finger into Keith, whose claws shred the sheets beneath him in a heartbeat. “Keith, what the fuck? Are you okay?”  


“Feels...really good,” Keith gasps, fingers gouging into the mattress. _This_ , this is all his dumb shitty Galra body has wanted since he woke up, and he’s finally getting it.  


Lance raises an eyebrow and continues, clearly not despairing over the fate of his mattress, but he does pause long enough to comment on Keith’s state of arousal. “You’re like, _super_ wet, you were right. I don’t think we’re gonna need lube at all. Maybe we should go see Allura, just in--”  


“No!” Keith cries, grinding his hips on Lance’s finger. “Please. Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”  


“Okay. Damn. But we’re going to talk to Allura or Coran after whether you like it or not.”  


Keith nods absently, a crazed and ravenous look in his eyes, and Lance adds a second finger and starts scissoring, in the same motion leaning over to kiss and nibble at his collarbone. Keith bites his lip so hard he draws blood (though that isn’t exactly a chore, given how sharp his teeth are). Lance grins and pulls back for a kiss, which Keith enthusiastically reciprocates.  


“What’s got you so damn riled up today?”  


He doesn’t fucking know, and he’s too engrossed in the prospect of _dick-in-ass_ to fucking _care_. “Lance, shut up and _fuck me_ ,” he snarls, and a shiver travels down Lance’s spine -- it’s a tiny bit satisfying to watch -- before he starts working a third finger into Keith and Keith, in turn, throws his head back as a purely animalistic noise tears itself from his throat.  


“Okay, okay, chill. Just let me grab a condom.”  


Something deep and primal and _instinctive_ protests the very mention of condoms, and he seizes Lance’s arm as he’s turning away. “No! No condom!” he says, yet he isn’t even sure why, just that he can’t stand the idea.  


“Alright, but just remember when you’re cleaning come out of your ass that this was your idea.”  


A more pleasant heat than he’s felt yet today fills him when he thinks about having an ass full of come, which any other day would have had him scrambling to get a condom on Lance before he’d be allowed anywhere _near_ him. He lets his head fall back onto the mass of pillows he’s piled behind him and nods eagerly, pretending he isn’t purring loud enough to rival a motorcycle right now.  


“You good?” Lance asks as he lines himself up, and Keith is too far gone to do anything other than nod more, chewing on his lip because _yes_ , yes, yes, this is what he needs. He does significantly more damage to the poor, abused mattress when Lance pushes inside him, but he _doesn’t care_ , he doesn’t care; he squeezes his eyes shut as some of the discomfort and overwhelming fever-heat drains from his body. His out-of-whack hormones sing praises as the thick cock settles inside him.  


“Fuuuck,” he keens, already trying to thrust down onto Lance’s dick. It takes about three seconds for him to come, but he’s still so hard it hurts, and Lance is gawking.  


“That ain’t normal,” he says, and Keith cracks a glaringly yellow eye open just enough to frighten him back into silence.  


“ _Just_ …”  


“I know, I know: just fuck you,” Lance sings teasingly, and starts pulling out unhurriedly, clearly trying to get a rise out of Keith.  


It works.  


“Laaaance,” he moans, drawn-out and furious, still grinding on him like his life depends on it, but his efforts are hardly fruitful, as Lance thrusts into him at the same leisurely pace. Keith _sobs_ , unable to express how direly he needs to be fucked senseless, tears welling up in his eyes.  


“Keith?! What’s wrong? I’m sorry, I’ll go faster, I’m sorry,” Lance clamors, hands finding purchase in his hair and tugging gently to draw his attention. He takes several deep, gasping breaths and leans into Lance’s touch as he strokes one of his ears.  


“ _Lance_ , please,” Keith whines, and then he’s kissing him again, and there’s a lot of tongue involved, working wonders to quell the fire in his body. He feels Lance start moving again, faster this time, and when they break the kiss he grabs onto Keith’s hips with both hands and picks up a near-painful pace. His breath catches in his throat at the feeling of Lance’s cock dragging over his prostate repeatedly.  


_Yes_ , his brain is telling him, _perfect_.  


He reaches around to grasp at Lance’s back and shoulders, perfectly aware that he’s making obscene gasping and mewling noises but refusing to give a shit, because he’s never been this turned on in his life and he _needs_ this, embarrassment be damned.  


“Jesus, you are so hot,” Lance breathes, pressing kisses along his collarbone and all the way up to his jaw.  


Keith feels the overwhelming urge to be bitten -- _marked_ \-- and tilts his head to expose his throat more plainly. “La-ah! Lance!”  


Lance hums, still fixated on leaving a hickey just below his ear.  


“Bite me.”  


“Have been.”  


“Harder!”  


“You’re fuckin' -- ah, _shit_ \-- weird today. Are you on drugs?”  


Keith growls low in his throat and Lance rolls his eyes and lowers his face to the junction of Keith’s neck and shoulder and _really_ bites him this time, leaving deep purple punctures. Keith wails and comes again. It only serves to excite him further; now he’s been reduced to a shuddering, heaving disaster under a deeply confused Lance, begging to be fucked harder without really registering that words are leaving his mouth.  


Lance is curled bodily over him, still lazily biting at his neck and and giving adorable, punched-out little exhales with every thrust, until suddenly he’s scrabbling at the pillows by Keith’s head and cursing loudly, and barely manages to ask if Keith is sure he wants him to come inside (the implication that he might not is agony, and Keith clamps his legs around his hips to prevent him from pulling out, which is a good enough answer). He feels a flood of warmth inside of him and the stupid, ridiculous purring starts up again as he comes for the third time in less than ten minutes.  


“Quiznak,” Lance gasps into his shoulder, and Keith snorts and wraps his arms fully around his torso and pulls him in closer, still marvelling at just how damn good he smells, like honey and fresh bread. Just as his body had somehow predicted, Lance coming inside him _had_ sated him, for now. The bone-deep ache still persists, dull, but with the looming threat of returning shortly. He no longer feels trapped in a desperate fit of searching for release; rather, he feels he’s accomplished exactly whatever his biological imperative was supposed to be, and is now loopy and blissed-out under Lance, nuzzling affectionately at his cheek and trying to convey just how at ease and grateful he is by purring contentedly and blinking slowly up at him.  


Lance exhales sharply through his nose when he sits up, reaching out a hand to stroke Keith’s cheek. “Shit, that’s adorable,” he murmurs, a vibrant grin stretching across his face.  


More than anything, Keith wants to stay like this, with Lance still inside him, still so close to him. They never really…”cuddle” after sex. Usually they fuck in the showers, or a secluded corner of a hangar, or against the wall in one of their rooms, and then go their separate ways. Keith shouldn’t expect more than that. They aren’t boyfriends, they aren’t dating; they just screw each other occasionally to relieve stress or...whatever. But, he reasons, since he just endured what he can only imagine is some kind of fucked up Galran mating ritual bullshit, he can have this, just one time.  


“You know I’m still...uh, inside, right?”  


Keith nods and his whole chest rumbles, still in absolute bliss over everything that just transpired. “Stay like that awhile.”  


Lance shrugs and rolls onto his side, taking Keith with him, and lets Keith continue to nuzzle at his face and neck, more touchy now than he thinks he’s ever been. It isn’t something that concerns him; he’s very touch-starved, he already knows, but whatever happened to him today has seriously lowered his inhibitions. Lance’s hand comes up to settle on the back of his head, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, and Keith can’t fight the smile that lights up his face when his affection is returned. He plants an eager kiss below Lance’s jaw and feels him chuckle more than he hears it.  


“Man, do you ever stop purring?” Lance asks, now actively rubbing his fingers through his hair and around his ears.  


Not around Lance, no. He hides his smile in his shoulder and reminds himself that _no_ , they aren’t boyfriends, they aren’t dating, and he’s perfectly happy just being fuck-buddies or whatever word Lance uses for it. “Not my fault. It’s really hard to stop, ‘specially when I’m happy.”  


“Aww, I make you happy?” He can almost see Lance batting his eyelashes mockingly and bites his collarbone in retaliation. “ _Ow_! C’mon, dude! Not cool.”  


“Shhhut up,” Keith mutters drowsily. Now that he has… _that_ out of his system, he’s exhausted. He rests his cheek on Lance’s shoulder and inhales deeply, his warm scent and the sound of his heartbeat lulling him to sleep. Lance continues to play with his hair and stroke his ears well after he’s fallen unconscious.

*

They fuck three more times before the end of the day, then twice more in the morning, until Keith is almost positive whatever has him so outrageously horny is over with. Lance keeps up as well as he can, and Keith at least has the mind to thank him for putting up with this shit.  


Of course, Lance just scoffs and tells him it’s weird to thank someone for sex, but he really means it. He has zero clue what happened to him, or why. The fact that Lance stuck with him through it despite being able to opt out at any time is astounding.  


Keith still hasn’t gotten up from the bed by the time Lance is finished getting dressed. He just groans feebly when a wad of fabric lands on his face. “I am _not_ getting up. Do you have any clue how much we just fucked? I can’t believe you’re still alive right now, honestly.”  


“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Lance croons, plopping down on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes. “Sex revitalizes the spirit.”  


“Are you actually a succubus and you're just not telling me?”  


“C’mon, up,” he says, exasperated. “We’ve gotta go see Allura and Coran.”  


“What? Why?”  


“To talk about whatever crazy shit just went down with your poor body. Do you not remember yesterday? This was your idea.”  


Keith stiffens and rolls his head gradually over to stare up at Lance, wide-eyed. “But...it’s done with.” He is _not_ \-- no way in fucking hell, no way in the _universe_ \-- about to relay details about his sexual escapades with Lance to the _Princess_ and her buffoon of an advisor.  


“Mm. And if it happens again? Are you magically gonna know what to do?”  


Keith clamps his mouth shut and glowers at him, and that’s apparently all Lance is looking for, because he just pats his thigh and smiles reassuringly.  


“It’s not gonna be super awkward. I’m sure they know all about how Galra sex works.”

*

“I knew we should’ve just -- as a precaution, neither you nor I could have just _known_ how it would be,” Allura is saying, and Coran turns to her with his head marginally inclined.  


“It was difficult to understand, given the circumstances, Princess. Neither of us wanted to have that _talk_ and see it all be for naught.”  


“Yes, but now...oh, Keith, poor Keith, I’m so sorry, you must have been so frightened.” Allura falls to her knees before him and grasps his hand, and his ears immediately whizz around to face forward, completely alert and quivering.  


“Uh…” he says, looking to Lance, then Allura, then back again. “It’s, uh, it’s okay. I...managed.”  


“Well, nothing to worry about in the future, dear paladin,” Coran chirps, already pulling up diagrams and walls of text and oh _boy_ , that’s exactly what Keith wanted today, a biology lesson about his weird new self. “I have all the information you’ll need right here.”  


He launches into a traumatizingly detailed report on Galran biology and reproduction before Allura can even stand to find her seat, and Keith genuinely tries to tune him out, but he knows that somewhere hidden in all this nonsense is the reason behind him being out of his mind with lust yesterday, so his brain picks up and stows away every piece of information presented to him regardless. He hides his face in Lance’s shoulder at some point, and Lance, equally mortified, just laughs awkwardly (the lying bastard) and pats his head.  


“So,” Coran declares, after what was probably six hours of lecture on why some Galrans have two sets of reproductive organs, “Given what you’ve described, I can safely say you’d fall here on that spectrum.” He zooms in on the far left end of some kind of multi-coloured pole and slaps his hand over the tiny stick figure beside it. “Child-bearing, essentially.”  


“...Sorry, what?”  


“Child-bearing,” Coran repeats, one syllable at a time. “Omega. That’s why you experienced such an intense heat, and all factors of your...activities fill that niche. Guaranteed, you’re a very fertile omega.”  


Keith turns to gape at Lance, but Lance is already gaping at _him_. “Shit,” he says.  


Lance shakes his head and an easy smile falls onto his face. “We probably don’t have anything to worry about. I mean, we’re completely different races. Isn’t there like, certain situations where that stuff doesn’t work?”  


Taking Lance’s cheeks in his hands, Keith drags his face down so they’re at eye-level. “Lance, you fucking moron, do _not_ tell me you are _that_ stupid.”  


“What?” Lance cries indignantly, and Keith squeezes his cheeks so hard he’s beginning to resemble a fish.  


“ _I’m_ what happens when a Galran and a human fuck, dumbass.”  


“Language,” the Princess chastises quietly from her seat; Keith turns his glare on her and she looks pointedly into a corner and starts humming to herself.  


Lance, on the other hand, has understanding written all over his face, and eyes the size of saucers. “Shit,” he says, and Keith nods.  


“Shit, indeed.”

(And if he’s a _lot_ closer to Lance after that, no one says anything.)  


(And if one day, while they rest together after a very light training session, Keith looks Lance in the eye and says, “I love you”, maybe Lance says it back.)


End file.
